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Show After the game came the most successful dance ever to be held here, and as usual, you were responsible. You were responsible, too, for a hard working ASUU, for a student Senate increasing its importance, for committees working more closely with the University's administration, for an active Union Program, and for an exhibition of snow sculpture of real quality and originality without the aid of local snow. There, for a group of head-scratching judges, were little "blue men" and pink elephants, Charlie Brown and friends, whales of tales, mistakes, and masterpieces being warmed and melted by nature's fickle sunshine. Maybe you were a Greek or maybe not. That wasn't too important to the result. Here was that same feeling or spirit or whatever you want to call it working in the ends of frozen fingers and talking about the dance that night. That feeling which a year ago was almost drowned in apathy, was now coming out, greeting people and doing things. Perhaps it was the fault of the Salk vaccine; anyway it was doing a great job. Along , came February, making winter feel right at home, and the dreary weather formed a somber backdrop as the red and white turned into a rainbow. If you were a junior, you extracted all the colors you could get a hold of to sparkle the year's biggest social event. You danced your way through a hundred hues that gilded pillars and melted the halls with a kind of erie glow. Then all the colors that had been left over had been fashioned into glittering columns like jewels hung in the darkened ballroom. There was, as usual, the mythical Princess of Loveliness, and there was a small cultured pearl on a gold chain to add charm to the color. The memory of a thousand swishing skirts and as many boutonnieres lingered in happy hearts drenched in color and sound. The memory is all that's left. It seemed as if there wasn't much time to catch your breath in the world of overly-busy people. The Union, though it was new and glass and concrete, didn't have time for the old things like memories. Here today, gone tomorrow was the byword. What in the darkness had been your own "cloud nine," became by the next day's light a fashion hall, bridge parlor, or banquet room. But what is yesterday compared with automatic pin-setters and huge windows to bring in ten thousand square feet of hot summer sun. Memories and things like that went old with tradition and the circle as a friendly spot. If you weren't too engrossed with the latest news of the Sputniks or television, you donned your red and white spirit and went to the Founder's Day Banquet and maybe Operation 108, the President's annual reception, brought thousands to the Union, while top Broadway stars drew the crowds to Kingsbury to help cement relations between the public and the school. |